


talkin' about love (talkin' about you)

by tinymark (lumoon33)



Series: markhyuck week 2021 [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Boys In Love, Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Markhyuck week 2021, Relationship Study, day 1: firsts | lasts, idolverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:53:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28339518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumoon33/pseuds/tinymark
Summary: They say your first love always stays with you, figuratively. For Donghyuck, it just happens to be literally.(or: just soft boys in love)
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Series: markhyuck week 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076168
Comments: 76
Kudos: 699
Collections: Markhyuck Week 2021





	talkin' about love (talkin' about you)

**Author's Note:**

> here i offer you my first contribution to the markhyuck fan week!! we're starting with a short fluffy one, i hope you guys like it <3

They say your first love always stays with you, figuratively. For Donghyuck, it just happens to be literally.

He was really young when he fell in love for the first time, 13 years old, and clueless on how to express his feelings through something else other than exaggerated kisses on the cheek and forceful hugs, tightening his arms around other people hard enough to hurt.

People used to tell him he was a handful, a trickster with a sharp tongue and evil thoughts, but a tender heart that screamed for affection all at once.

That's how Mark first met him, when Donghyuck was still trying to figure out what to do with that big hole in his chest that needed attention at all times, when he teased and pranked and laughed at everyone close to him just to feel the gentle warmth of eyes on him.

But Mark was the complete opposite, 14 years old and clueless on how to express his feelings at all. So he bit his tongue and ducked his head, tripping over his accent every time he tried to open up. He used to be reserved and quiet and awkward, used to stare at Donghyuck from across the practice room with wide, twinkling eyes, his gaze falling to the floor each time Donghyuck turned around and caught him red-handed.

That's how Donghyuck first met him, a shell of nerves and insecurities that looked up at Donghyuck as if he was something wild, something to be wary of. That's how Donghyuck first fell in love with him, pulled in by something stronger than his 13-year-old self, something he doesn't quite understand up to this day.

And it was a mess, a turbulent ride where Donghyuck did nothing else but trip over the wrong places, setting Mark off in all the worst ways. Heart on his sleeve, Donghyuck learned patience and boundaries the hard way. And Mark, Mark learned to read him and love him in the most subtle way Donghyuck has ever experienced, quiet like a whisper and steady like the hands of a clock.

Now, when Mark walks into the living room, age 21 and broad shoulders and firm steps, carrying himself tall and proud and sure, he looks at Donghyuck with the same wide, twinkling eyes, and smiles reserved and gentle. Even though he's getting better at holding Donghyuck's eyes as time goes by, his gaze still ends up falling to the floor the way it used to do when he was young. But he doesn't hold himself back, not anymore.

Mark shuffles closer, accidentally sitting on Donghyuck’s feet when he flops down on the couch next to him, trapping Donghyuck’s blanket under his body.

"You're crushing my feet," Donghyuck complains, wiggling his toes as much as Mark's thigh on top of him allows him to.

"Oh, man, I'm sorry," Mark pulls away as if he's been burned, tugging at the blanket to slide it from underneath his butt before he's curling his hands around Donghyuck's ankles. He pulls Donghyuck's legs up, stretches them over his thighs gently, his clever fingers sliding under the blanket to dig into the soft flesh above Donghyuck's heels. "Is your leg okay? Did I hurt you?"

Donghyuck shakes his head no, catching his lower lip between his teeth to stop himself from moaning at the pleasant feeling of Mark's hands on his body, never failing to press down on the right spots.

"I recovered like a million years ago, Mark," he says instead, crooking an eyebrow as he throws himself backward on the couch, head propped up on the armrest so he can keep looking at Mark. "You worry too much."

Mark isn't looking at him, his eyes fixed on his lap as he brushes his hands up Donghyuck’s clothed legs, fingers rubbing at his shins. "I worry just enough," he mumbles, his lips pursed into an annoyed pout.

"Man, you're so cute," Donghyuck giggles, earnest and unashamed because what's the point of hiding after all these years, when Mark already knows him inside out.

The reaction is instantaneous. Mark scoffs, turning his head to look at Donghyuck with an exaggerated baffled expression, arched eyebrows, and an open mouth. He can't control the blush that crawls up his face, though, painting his cheeks pink under his glasses, the tip of his ears turning cherry red the same way they did back when he was a kid, when he didn't know what to do with Donghyuck's suffocating affection, overwhelming the two of them.

But then, Mark smirks. It's a small thing, crooked and cheeky and bolder than his 14-year-old self could have ever managed. He skims his hands down Donghyuck's legs until he reaches the soles of his socked feet, digging the tips of his fingers there, right where he knows Donghyuck is most sensitive.

"You fucking asshole," Donghyuck yelps, trying to shoot his legs up and away from Mark's grasp. Mark is faster, though, and he grips Donghyuck's left ankle tightly, the fingers of his other hand tickling the sole of Donghyuck's feet mercilessly as Donghyuck keeps withering and kicking uselessly. "Please, Mark. Please, stop. I'm literally begging you," he whines, breathless and broken by involuntary laugher, clawing at the blanket.

But Mark keeps going until Donghyuck is reduced to an exhausted mess, sweaty on the forehead and with tears prickling the corners of his eyes, his chest heaving up and down in shallow intakes of breath. Mark is still smiling, wider than before, with no hint of shame or awkwardness, unlike his younger version. He's scanning Donghyuck's body with gentle eyes, his hands cradling Donghyuck's ankles carefully now.

It should be embarrassing, to have someone else's eyes on you when you're sweaty and blushing and struggling for breath. But Mark has seen Donghyuck in every version, shape, and form. He's seen him sick and feverish and snotty. He's seen him tired and pale and hollow-eyed. He's seen him sad and homesick and swollen. He's seen him flushed red and dripping sweat and smelling like hell. He's even seen him drunk, so wasted that Donghyuck could barely walk, throwing up in the toilet bowl as his dirty hair got plastered to his face and neck. And, seven years later, Mark’s still looking.

That's why Donghyuck doesn't waste his time covering himself up and allows Mark to run his eyes all over his exhausted body instead. And Mark's face goes so soft, his grin shrinking into a tight-lipped smile as he leans closer, one of his hands still around Donghyuck's ankle, his other arm draped over the back of the couch, fingers digging into the cushions as if he's trying to stop himself from reaching out.

He doesn't touch Donghyuck, he doesn't lean all the way in to press a kiss to his forehead, doesn't caress his cheeks slowly, doesn't cup his face between his hands. He only stares and smiles softly, looking at Donghyuck as if he's trying to commit the sight to memory, his thumb painting absentminded circles over Donghyuck's ankle bone.

"Have you eaten already?" Mark asks, his eyes sliding off Donghyuck's face for a second to check the hour on the TV screen. "It's almost midnight."

And Donghyuck feels like his chest is about to overflow, growing bigger and bigger with whatever it is Mark always makes him feel, something quiet and gentle and ever-present.

He swallows hard, nods his head, and kneads the hard muscle of Mark's thigh with his toes. "I ate like half an hour ago, fucking worry bug."

Donghyuck's words are teasing and bordering sharp, but they are also backed up with an understanding and familiarity older than their careers. It's always _have you eaten_ and _does it hurt_ and _are you tired,_ it's been like that for so many years now. And Donghyuck doesn't need more, not really.

The living room fills up with people a second later, other members flooding the place with conversations and laughter that are way too loud for this hour of the night. Mark scoots closer to Donghyuck on the couch, making room for other people to sit next to them, but he keeps his hands resting over Donghyuck's knees so he can't take them off of his lap.

They stay like that when a movie starts rolling on TV. Donghyuck's lower back hurts for being in the same position for too long, his neck getting stiff over the armrest as he twists his body in an awkward angle to glance at the screen. But Mark is scratching the back of Donghyuck’s knees softly with his nails (short in his left hand and long in his right, because he needs them like that to play guitar, as opposed as his younger self, who used to chew on them until they were at the same level as the flesh of his pads), and that makes it all worth it.

Mark doesn't make it through the entire movie, he's nodding off halfway through, jumping awake only when Donghyuck pinches his hip under the blanket. He seems adamant about staying until Johnny slaps the back of his head to wake him up when he falls asleep for the fourth time.

"Go to bed, dumbass," Johnny tells him, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen so the puppy look Mark throws at him can't affect him.

Mark ends up dragging himself up with tired limbs, readjusting the blanket around Donghyuck before he walks away, tucking it carefully under his thighs and around his feet so the cold of the night can't touch his skin in any way.

"Alright. Goodnight, guys," Mark mumbles once he straightens up to walk out of the room. He hovers on the edge of the couch, though. He stands there for a few seconds and allows his fingertips to run through Donghyuck's hair lightly. "Don't go to sleep too late," he says to the room, but he's looking down at Donghyuck, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he smiles sleepily.

"Go away already," Donghyuck teases him, ducking his head out of Mark's reach, "Some of us are trying to pay attention."

And, when he was 14 and clueless, Mark used to frown at these little things. But now, 21 and broad and sleep-soft, a master of reading between Donghyuck’s lines, his grin only widens.

\---

Donghyuck ends up falling asleep on the couch, and he wakes up to Mark's annoyed face hovering over his, insistent hands shaking him awake as he kneels next to the couch.

"Stop it," Donghyuck mumbles, his mouth pasty and dry after the night. He shuffles on the couch, disentangling his arms from the blanket to push Mark away. "I'm awake, piss off."

"I told you to go to sleep early," Mark complains, resting his hands on Donghyuck's chest. "Johnny should've carried you downstairs."

"He's not you," Donghyuck says in his still sleepy voice, blinking at Mark through heavy eyelids. "No one else gives a fuck about my strained neck."

Mark's annoyed frown only deepens, his left hand trailing up Donghyuck's chest to curl around his neck instead. He sneaks his cold fingers between Donghyuck's skin and the couch so he can dig his tips into the sore muscles. "Well, they should."

It's still new, not the honesty rolling off Mark's tongue, he's gotten that mastered since he was a kid. But the easy, open confessions of care without the mess of blushes and stutters that used to follow one back when they weren’t together. Donghyuck can't help the giggle that bubbles up his chest, and it morphs into full-on laughter when Mark's frown dissolves into something tender.

Mark looks around to make sure they are alone in the living room, and then he's crawling all over Donghyuck. He pushes himself to his feet only to lay down on the couch next to Donghyuck, crowding him back against the backrest as he hides his face into the crook of Donghyuck's shoulder, the cold tip of his nose dragging along the line of Donghyuck's collarbone.

It takes Donghyuck back to when he first realized he was in love with Mark, back when every single part of his body yearned to be closer to him and Donghyuck didn't know how to handle it. He always ended up shoving his way into Mark's personal space, draping himself all over Mark's body in a desperate attempt at stopping his hands from itching. And Mark would go all stiff under him, his body still and his face so red that he might have as well been holding his breath.

Now, it is Mark the one who drapes himself all over Donghyuck, throwing one of his legs over Donghyuck's hip as his hand cradles his neck softly. It's still so new, the feeling of Mark's body against him, relaxed and breathing easily, molding into Donghyuck's side as if he belongs there. And he's always belonged there, but they've never figured out how until recently.

Donghyuck brings his arms around Mark's waist, pulling him in impossibly closer. He peeks down at the pale skin of Mark's neck and thinks about when he first fell in love with him, back when Mark's skin was always bruised with purple smudges because he used to wear himself out until he couldn’t stand up straight anymore. Now, there are garnet bruises scattered down Mark's neck in the shape of Donghyuck's mouth.

Mark keeps rubbing circles on the side of Donghyuck's throat, trailing his fingertips up and down his skin lazily. Where his hands used to be soft, they are now rough and calloused for all the hours he spends playing the guitar, learning the chords of Donghyuck's favorite songs just so they can jam together.

And when Mark slides his thigh between Donghyuck's, he does so gently and carefully, slow so he won't hurt Donghyuck with any sudden movements. And it's so different to when Mark used to recoil into himself when Donghyuck got too close, pointy knees digging into Donghyuck's ribs because he was feeling so much that he'd rather run away from it than accept it.

"Your heart is beating like crazy," Mark giggles into his neck. He pushes his fingers into Donghyuck's pulse point, which only makes Donghyuck's heart skyrocket faster, leaping into his throat.

They've known each other for so long, so many years of so many missteps bundled up between them, tugging them impossibly closer. But this kind of intimacy is still new, unrestrained affection that fills that empty hole in Donghyuck's chest to the brim.

"Shut up," Donghyuck mumbles against the crown of Mark's head.

He takes one of his hands off of Mark's waist only to tangle his fingers in his hair. This is different too, Mark's hair, rough and burnt due to all the hair dye that’s been used on him, opposed to the soft, healthy hair he used to have when Donghyuck first fell in love with him, always too long and messy under his endless collection of caps.

Donghyuck tugs at the hair on the base of Mark's hair and forces him to untuck his head from his neck, just so Donghyuck can look at him in the eyes. They are so close that their noses bump together, and Mark goes cross-eyed trying to stare at Donghyuck, his eyes still red with sleep and naked, no glasses or contact lenses in the way.

When they kiss, Donghyuck keeps his eyes open for a second, just enough to see Mark's eyes drifting shut, enough to catch a glimpse of the small mole on his eyelid, of the way the permanent wrinkle between his eyebrows softens at the touch of Donghyuck's lips to his.

They kiss soft and languid, Mark's tongue tasting like toothpaste when it sneaks its way into Donghyuck's mouth through gentle swaps and tiny nibbles on his lower lip. Donghyuck whimpers against him, wrapping his arms around Mark's neck completely to bring him closer, breathing in the familiar mix of his body soap and shaving cream.

"I love you," Donghyuck mumbles against the warm skin of Mark's cheek once they pull away, his lips brushing over a pimple there.

It is weird, even after all these years, to say it out loud like this. It's gotten even weirder since they got together, somehow. It's a charged sentence, something that feels too heavy in Donghyuck's tongue to be announcing it, something that should be read between the lines and understood softly and unspokenly so it never runs thin. But Donghyuck's heart keeps growing bigger and bigger inside of his chest, and he knows he'll end up overflowing if he doesn't get the words out.

Mark giggles against him again, shaking in Donghyuck's arms, light and soft and chirpy. That's something that never changes, the sound of his laughter, and how he always manages to laugh at everything that comes out of Donghyuck's mouth.

"You need to brush your teeth," Mark mumbles, placing a small peck on the corner of Donghyuck's mouth. "Your morning breath is terrible," he complains, with his eyes still closed. And then, he kisses Donghyuck again anyway.

It reminds Donghyuck of the countless times he tried to smother Mark with kisses when they were kids. Reminds him of the times Mark complained and complained and tried to fight him off, but never got mad at him and always stayed at hand reach.

"Love you," Mark mumbles into his mouth, small and shy, because it's always weird as much as it is true. "I'll bring you breakfast."

And, then, he's pushing himself to his feet and away from Donghyuck. He's flushed red and looking away shyly, smiling private and awkward and so, so pretty.

They say your first love stays with you forever, figuratively. Donghyuck's has been with him for years, literally. Now, as he watches as Mark makes his way towards the kitchen, dragging his still sleepy feet, Donghyuck hopes his first love will stay with him long enough to become his last.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are very much appreciated!! i cant wait to share more of my work with you very soon <3
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/tiniemarks) // [cc](https://curiouscat.me/tiniesung)


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